Waiting
by Takada Saiko
Summary: One-shot, pre-series. Murdock is left to the VA hospital even after the A-Team has escaped and he wonders if they'll ever come for him. Just a bit of angst. R&R please


Title: Waiting

Author: Takada Saiko

Notes: I do not own HM Murdock, sadly, because we'd get along so very well bouncing around whit, padded rooms. A girl can dream, right? Anyway, this is partially inspired by MizHowlinMad's 'Where the Wild Things Were'. If you haven't read it, you should. I'd already been poking at the idea of when Murdock is first admitted, but this pushed me past so I needed to write it down. I may actually write a mutli-chapter a later date. We'll see. But for now, here ya go, my friends. Enjoy!

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The last weeks – months, days, who knew? – of events had been lost in the haze of frantic activity. Partial memories of a place now half a world away plagued him as he huddled in his new room in a place that he'd never wanted to be in the first place.

It was quiet, being very late at night and the lights had been turned off, shrouding the entire wing in shadows that would move if you didn't watch them carefully enough. If you turned away for too long – or worse, fell asleep – they might even take a swipe at you. You could never trust those shadows that danced on the strange white walls.

HM Murdock had never considered himself a crier, but it was everything he could do as he curled in the corner to keep the tears from spilling from his dark, frightened eyes. With every creek of the walls he felt himself jump again, shaking with fatigue. How long had it been since he slept?

No, he couldn't think of sleep. He couldn't give in to it. Every time he let his eyelids droop he lost himself t o a swirl of gunfire, flames, treachery, and the loss of the only thing that had become stable in a very unstable life. He'd been on his first tour when his grandmother had died, and on his second when his grandfather followed her. He had no family left. The A-Team was all he had in the world, and lies and deceit had ripped them away from him.

He had tried, those first few days, to piece things together. It was all so blurred together, and he told the man in the white coat that. He was a doctor, the man told him, but Murdock knew what those sorts of doctors were like. He'd never liked them and he hated their tests even more. Phrases like 'mentally unstable' and 'not competent to stand trial' had become used regularly when speaking about him. Most of the time while he was in the room, but never spoken directly to.

Murdock felt a tear escape and he blinked fast against any more that might follow. They'd told him the first day that he'd been committed that his friends would stand trial and, more than likely, be court-martialed. "I'll stand with them," he'd said, straightening his shoulders. Why shouldn't he? He was part of the A-Team. He was under Colonel Hannibal Smith's direct command. He should stand with his team.

"You're not able to," the nurse had answered and led him to his new room. "I'm sorry, Mr. Murdock, but the courts don't think you're fit to stand trial."

So he'd been left alone. He saw on the television that they had broken free, but that had been… well, he honestly didn't know how long it had been, but they hadn't come for him. They were free of their prison, but they had not come for him in his. He was left to doctors' probing questions and his own personal hell of nightmares with no escape.

At least with his team he had a reason to keep it together. Here, there was none and his mind ran wild.

So he would wait. Wait and wait and wait until he forgot who and what he was waiting for. He hoped that he could cling to their images within his tattered mind for a little while at least. Hannibal would puff on his cigar, grinning and tell him that he was coming up with a plan to get to him at that very moment. Face would have a blast distracting all the pretty nurses and BA would be worried. Oh, that big old mud sucker would never _admit_ that he was worried. Not in a million years, but he would be.

He clung to those images, eyes wide and staring at the shadows until the sun rose the next morning.

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A/N: I have a confession to make. I'm a review addict. Will you feed my addiction please? No, you're not supposed to read the 'do not feed the author' sign. It's outdated anyway... please, feed to author's addict to reviews. Please?

TS


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